Well OK, since you ask, I'll tell you a small part of my story. This all happened several years ago. Since my divorce four years earlier, I had become a recluse but recently decided to push myself to date. Friends set me up with friends and blind dates, I even tried online and dating services before I stooped down to trolling bars. Nothing worked. Besides not trusting people anymore, I also feared STDs and cons, so I was reluctant to pick up a stranger, even if just for casual fun - and I don't mean sex.
Though it had been seven years since I last had sex, I didn't crave it anymore. Hmmm, since we recycle all our body cells over seven years, was I a born-again virgin? The urge mellowed after a year or so - until I saw an intimate moment. A long warm hug or passionate kiss would draw me into their emotions and I felt my loneliness.
E.g., The romantic kiss on DS9 between Dax and her former wife was hot enough, but the single strand of saliva that stretched between them made the kiss feel guttural and so much more real. I groaned and felt their remorse. Airports became horrific for me. Lovers and friends leaving reminded me of my pain; lovers and friends greeting with joy reminded me of what I missed. I avoided friends, mostly because they reminded me I missed having a loving, compassionate woman in my life.
Sunny day friends and lovers split at the first storm. Real friends don't give up on you and THEY are the ones willing to follow you into hell because they care. One couple kept looking out for me, and I felt blessed to have these two with me. Without telling me, they signed me up for an unusual TV dating game. They knew my romance history and passed some helpful details to the show. People who knew the show would only run on HBO and Cinemax knew it wasn't your standard Dating Game.
I knew NOTHING. The hook this show used was to reconnect lost loves and watch the results. My friends knew I wanted to reconnect with a couple of girls from college. Marg especially was very important to me and could have been the great love of my life. Circumstances forced us to limit our romantic involvement and eventually, when it was about to become *very hot*, we had to cut off contact abruptly. I couldn't blame her, but it broke my heart.
After so many years, I still cherish the fond memories. I had been looking for her for years. We were the type of true friends who always watched out for each other, were in constant, welcome contact and sometimes fell asleep on the phone after hours of chat. Just hearing each other's voice was a joy. Sacrifices were insignificant if we could help the other. Remembering her and feeling the loss again always took my breath away and brought on the tears.
My friends convinced me that the TV show could find lost loves and IF they did, they'd arrange a date. They took a list of names and searched for several at once. If they couldn't find an old love, they'd find an interesting match. With TV money backing them, they could ensure a clean medical clearance. That removed one of my fears.
Since they would not want bad publicity, they would also help flush out the cons and help settle problems. Wellllll, since they addressed my biggest fears, I had no excuse to say no. After signing a contract and a release to air any footage, the show, RG, told me very little except they hoped to surprise me.
With so many years gone, there was no telling what happened to her. My thoughts roamed to possibilities: happily married with kids; divorced and embittered; dead; substantially a different person. Hell, did she remember ME fondly, or was I a thorn in her life? Would she even want to see me after 25 years?
... Weeks passed and I thought they had forgotten me. They hadn't. One day they called with instructions on how to prepare for the surprise date. Basically, just dress comfortably, neatly, and be extra thorough with bathing. Hmmmm, I wondered why?
The blind date came with an unusual scenario. I reported to a tall, new, wood trestle I had to scale alone. About 40 feet up was a 'floor' under an open, attic style gable. I didn't know they had already begun taping and transmitting even before I'd reached the trestle. What an unusual setting for a dating program!
My male host - in a dark suit and white shirt - pushed his interview mic. at me. He directed an invisible camera crew that waited for me. The wide-open floor encouraged winds to gather before trying to whoosh us off the platform. The date officially "started" when I scaled the trestle. No one said this would be televised LIVE to tape.
The second release they insisted I sign had more than the usual liability concerns. It essentially read that I knew there would be some unusual, risky and perhaps explicit events in which I agreed to participate *fully*. Severe penalties were implied. What could they do? I wasn't paid, so I had nothing to forfeit. Maybe they planned to sue me and take all I had if I broke the contract? I signed LIVE, on-air, and the date took its first surprise step.
Across a very wide street was another, similar, trestle. A tall female host - in a snug jacket, blouse and knee-high skirt, all white, waited to start her part. She was with my blind date who was too far away to identify, assuming I knew her. Though puzzled, I approached my host. He started the TV banter, but I focused on my surroundings, what they wanted me to do, and what I *would* do.
My date and I were told to look down at the sidewalk café table below. It was reminiscent of Little Italy, complete with a heavy man with a walking stick who sat, looking straight ahead in a daze, and sipped his café. They hinted that the walking stick might help us with the next step. The hosts gave us instructions that would cause us to meet, but not necessarily know it. They told us BOTH that we had met before and would know each other.
We climbed down, below street level, to a huge enclosed and busy cafeteria. We were told to get lunch and try to spot each other. That, I thought, must be the 'game show' hook. But they weren't done with us yet. I walked around, searching, with plate in hand and jaw slack. I thought I knew many people, but didn't greet them.
One of the people looked like a still petite, but very chubby Marg from college. After a closer look, I decided that couldn't be she. After a long search, I sat alone to eat and sadly wondered if this were just a hoax. Carrying a plate like mine, a familiar looking petite woman circled me. It *was* Marg! We locked eyes and stared a long moment, then both knew. We ran and hugged each other. Her head still only reached my nose, but we silently held the hug in joy.
I was tempted to kiss her hard right then, but felt I should know more first and wondered if she were my date or just a happy coincidence. Either way, I was thrilled to meet her again. Even better, she seemed thrilled to see ME again. I had tried searching for her for at least ten years before I gave up all expectations of finding her.
Slowly, I realized that two camera crews were circling us. It was still hard to accept that someone had tracked her down and set this up so quickly - I dared to hope they had. I pulled her away an inch and asked hopefully "Are YOU my blind date?" She grinned and hugged me tighter. Relief, joy and gratitude brought me to tears. I kissed her forehead, then slowly our mouths found each other. This was a surprisingly warm greeting after a 25-year separation.
She felt tight and still looked great. A hint of the passion we'd both avoided in college swelled in us. It showed in our eyes and the hug. Long before we were ready to break, the cameras intruded. We were given an overview of what they expected. Yes, Marg had signed the same release ensuring her cooperation. Maybe the penalty was that we'd be separated again with no contact information and lost again to each other? Could they be that cruel - on the air?
What would we be willing to do to stay together? The show people were relieved that this meeting meant so much to us, or else that penalty would be an empty threat. Instead we nearly skipped, hand in hand, smiling broadly. I can feel that joy even today. They said the next 'event' was to take a long ride in an odd carriage. Were there horses? Dunno.
The skip to the carriage took long enough for us to do a bit of catching up and a lot of kissing. Happily, the camera crews kept some distance, though I was sure we were still on camera. We didn't care.
The carriage was small and shaped like those in fairy tales. It also struck me as a smaller version of the Queen of England's, but without the gold leaf and ornaments. It was earth tone, with two plain wood facing benches just wide enough to hold two comfortably.
We climbed in to find the female host on the opposite bench, dressed the same as before but with her skirt pulled up a few inches past her knees - enough for both of us to take notice. Now I could see she was a blue-eyed blonde, about 30 and quite good looking. Her white jacket was gone, her white blouse, which had been closed to her collar, was now open well below her bright white bra. Holding her interview mic., she grinned and asked questions we barely heard. She leaned toward us far more than necessary, with her blouse open we could see most of her moderate, small C maybe, breasts fighting to spill over her lacy demi bra.
This abruptly reminded me of an old girlfriend, Sue who wouldn't wear a bra when she flaunted herself like this in bars and especially at a particular dinner party with two friends. That night, her oversized top let the small V neck opening drop down and let us all see all of her little breasts and well past her nipples. She enjoyed pretending that she didn't know her tits were on display.
.... There is more of this story ...